


Tears On Polaroids

by westminster



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Fluff, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Light Angst, M/M, Underage Drinking, just really sweet, sobbing!draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 02:57:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13262160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westminster/pseuds/westminster
Summary: Students get ahold of a grainy polaroid of Draco kissing another boy. Everyone is making a big deal about it, but no one notices what Harry notices...Harry is the other boy. They were both so drunk they don't even remember that night. Draco doesn't even recognise Harry in the picture, but Harry recognises that horrible scarf he owns.





	Tears On Polaroids

Harry instantly knew something was wrong when he wasn't awoken by the sound of a dozen rowdy teenagers throwing various pieces of homework at each other to copy. It didn't feel like Hogwarts if Harry wasn't woken up by a sharp jab in the hips and a whisper of, "Oi, did you do Flitwick's essay? It's due today and I can't be arsed doing it - can I borrow yours?" Moving his pillow slightly so he could read the time on his alarm clock, he almost fell of his bed in surprise. He was still in his pyjamas and it was already ten minutes into first period.  

Striding into transfiguration class, now half an hour late with his underwear on the wrong way round and his hair left uncombed and messy, Harry had expected to be met with more than a couple of disapproving looks. However, the classroom was brimming with chattering students, all of them bubbly and full of life, like they had just heard the most incredible piece of gossip. Cautiously, he walked up to Professor McGonagall expecting a weeks worth of detentions but only receiving a stern raise of her left eyebrow and an order to write five pages on the disadvantages of using troll's hair to aid transfiguration spells. 

Harry slipped into his seat between Hermione and Ron.

"Has Snape resigned? Why is everyone so talkative, people haven't been like this since they found out that the Muggle Studies teacher and the Arithmancy teacher were shagging." 

Ron grinned at him, "Even better mate."

In return, Hermione shot Ron a fierce glare, "Although he may be Harry's rival, the fact remains that this... _incident_ is an abhorrent invasion of said person's privacy and completely defies any ethics I hold. I can't help but feel sorry for him, actually, that it was found is not his fault, is it?"

"But Malfoy's a tosser!" Ron objected.

"Hang on," interjected Harry, baffled and lost by this thread of conversation, "what's Malfoy got to do with anything?" 

Reluctantly, Hermione opened her copy of 'A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration' and flicked through the back few pages until a little piece of paper fell out. The first thing that Harry realised was that it was a copy of a polaroid picture and in that picture was clearly two boys snogging. One of the boys took up most of the photo. Harry catalogued the bottle of alcohol gripped tightly in his palm, the light capturing flashes of emerald on his robes, illuminating his silky blonde hair and- _wait... oh my god, it **was**_ _Draco._ Then his attention turned to Malfoy's partner. He was mostly out of frame, all his features dark and shadowed. The only thing that really stood out was his scarf, a pale lavender with white stars littered across it.  

Why did that scarf look familiar? Harry could've have sworn he'd seen it before.

Then it clicked.

"Holy fuck," he whispered, only faintly aware he said this out loud and not, as he intended, in his head.

"What? Harry? Do you recognise the other person?"

"No," Harry lied, "Just, ermm, Malfoy being gay, it's a bit... unexpected, is all."

_It was **definitely** not that Harry knew who owned that lavender scarf. That if Harry went to his room right now, retrieved his trunk and dug to the very bottom of it he would find that exact scarf. That he never wore because it had been one of the rare things that the Dursleys had given him. That the one time he had actually worn it was when his Gryffindor one was lost and he had been forced to wear it on a visit to Hogsmeade. The same visit where he had gotten stupidly drunk in the Hog's Head with Dean and Seamus. At some point in the night his friends were replaced by Draco Malfoy, unusually docile as a result of all the whisky. Harry finally remembered that night._

 

_*  
_

Harry contently sips a pint of God knows what (Seamus had passed it to him not long ago, and Harry accepted it without questioning.) Having just assured Dean and Seamus that he'd be alright on his own for the rest of the night, he scans the pub, hoping to find someone to drink away his problems with. 

Instead, he fixates on Malfoy, at a table on his own in the very corner of the room. Drinking the rest of his pint if three straight gulps, he stumbles over to Malfoy's table and squashes himself next to him.

"Potter, what the hell do you think your doing," Malfoy sneers, pushing Harry away.

"Look Dr-raco, I'm probably s'posed to stay away from you because we're 'enemies' or some shit but I was over there aaaand I saw you and you looked really fucking gorgeous, you did and now I'm here and your shirt's undone and that's even worse. Goddd, Draco."

It's not easy to make the great Draco Malfoy stutter, but somehow Harry manages it. "W-what the...? Potter, are you taking the piss?"

Harry brings his finger to Draco's lips, and giggles an intoxicated, "shhhhhhhhhhhh." Draco acts strangely compliant and turns his hips to face Harry. Then Harry replaces his finger with his lips, kissing Draco with no finesse, harder than he's probably ever been kissed before. Harry's tongue is practically devouring his mouth because he frankly doesn't care anymore, doesn't care that he's supposedly the chosen one, doesn't care that they're in public where anyone can see. He cares that Draco is here and warm and responsive and he is oh so incredibly _Harry's._ Draco kisses back like he's trying to prove something, eliciting small groans every few seconds, hands mapping the small of Harry's back. The kiss is sweet and slow and _real_ an-

Both of them quickly pull away when they here the sound of a camera click. 

A first year Ravenclaw student stands at the edge of the table, furiously shaking the polaroid that had just come out of his camera. Immediately, Draco rushes up, raising a fist in fury, going to punch him until Harry intervenes. 

"Not here, Malfoy."

Draco notes the shift back to using each other's surnames as a sign that Harry's actions were a one time thing, that Draco shouldn't have got his hopes up. 

Once Harry had retrieved the photo of them kissing and put it safely in his pocket, Draco runs. Runs to avoid the conversation that would have ensued. 

*

It took Harry a few days to come to terms with it being his face in the polaroid. He still hadn't told Ron or Hermione because he really didn't want to deal with Ron trying to murder him and Hermione's pity. However, he had come to the conclusion that he needed to speak to Draco - especially if Draco too could not remember who he was kissing. He had the right to know who his 'mystery' partner was. 

It was almost midnight, most pupils were now in a deep sleep. Except Harry, of course, who was under his bedsheets studying the other exception to this statement - Draco Malfoy - on the Marauder's Map. His fellow classmate was pacing the floor of the Astronomy Tower and Harry decided that he'd never get a better opportunity to come clean to Draco, so headed out with the invisibility cloak under his arm.   

When Draco saw Harry, he immediately starting yelling a number of expletives at him, mainly consisting of, "Shove your pity right up your arse, Potter, I don't need it from you."

Harry could take it no longer and asked if the boy in the picture might have been the one to spread it around Hogwarts, Draco gave him a look so laden with incredulity that Harry had to fight the urge to kiss him again.

“I was so drunk I didn’t even remember it until _this_ ,” he retrieved multiple copies of the picture in question from his pocket and viciously threw them on the floor, “surfaced. How am I supposed to know what he’d do? I don’t even know who he is.”

Harry just schooled his face into a neutral expression, curled his fingers into a fist to stop himself pulling Draco into a hug, and pretended to be blissfully unaware of the anxiety churning in his gut.

"Draco..."

Draco wondered why the use of his first name sounded so familiar and so palatable coming from Harry's mouth.

"I'm so sorry and I really have to tell yo-"

"No!" Draco hissed, "you don't understand. How could you? Stop trying, it's pathetic, Potter."

Harry nervously took a step closer to Draco, his hand inches away from the other boy's and forced himself to make eye contact with him, "It could just as easily have been my name dragged through the dirt."

“I –“ Draco was finding it hard to speak, eyes wide with surprise. Harry forced himself to keep talking, lest he never again work up the courage to get it out in the open.

“You see, one night, in Hogsmeade, I found myself alone in the Hog's Head.”

Draco was outright gaping now, staring at him in shock.

“I had rather too much to drink, you know how it is?”

Draco nodded dumbly, unsure if this story was heading in the same direction he thought it was. 

“And somehow I found the courage to flirt with my crush - someone whose affections I've lusted for for years. Someone who,” he swallowed, remembering just how Draco had kissed back, “I was nearly a hundred percent sure hated my guts.”

His heart was hammering now, willing Draco to say something, anything. Or, better still, to say nothing and lean in to kiss him, like the incident had never happened. Draco's breath was ragged, matching his own, and the seconds seemed to stretch on endlessly.

“And then we were rudely interrupted,” Harry whispered suddenly. “I'm- I'm sorry, that nosey little Ravenclaw. I could have sworn I took the photo from him but I was too drunk to remember. I had no clue that we had shared that night until I realised that the scarf was mine."

Suddenly, Draco's fear and anxiety turned into pure anger. Tears forming in the corner of his eyes he screamed, "It was you! It was your fault! You've ruined my life, do you know how awful it is - people staring at you in the halls and whispering to each other? Knowing that you've brought shame upon your entire family?"

Full on crying now, tears streaming down his face, he began to let out his anger by hitting Harry. Not hard enough to hurt him, but hard enough for Harry to know he'd have bruises on his chest the next day. 

"I hate you, I hate this! I hate all of this!"

Suddenly, Draco began to fist his hands into Harry's shirt, sobbing into Harry's neck. Truly shocked by this development, Harry began to run his hands through Draco's hair, whispering words of comfort. They spent a good deal of time this way, until Draco finally lifted his head up. Staring at Harry with big, doe eyes, Harry grabbed Draco's cheeks, wiping away his tears with his thumbs. Draco gaze was dark and wanting, cheeks flushed as he entwined his fingers with Harry's, and Harry could take it no more.

Draco's kiss was just as intoxicating as he remembered, his movements just as eager. Before he had chance to remind himself of all the reasons why this was a bad idea, he had Draco pinned up against the nearest wall, grabbing urgently at belt buckles and buttons and zips, never once leaving each other's mouths. Harry gasped at the first touch of Draco's hand, finally breaking away from the kiss to pant. Harry turned his attention to Draco’s neck, sucking harshly at it, pulling one of Draco's hands from his side to wrap around his cock. It didn’t take long, for either of them, until they were coming messily. He pressed reassuring kisses against the fluttering pulse at the base of Draco’s throat, worked his way up until they were kissing slow and deep, tongues entwined. 

Draco returned his head to the spot on Harry's neck he had just been crying on. This time pressing the softest kisses possible against Harry's collarbone.

"Never leave me, Harry."

"Shhh, don't be silly, Draco. I'm here for good now." 


End file.
